


It's a Sin to Tell a Lie

by Kindassunshine



Category: The Bone Season - Samantha Shannon
Genre: F/M, Kissing, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 12:36:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3569909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kindassunshine/pseuds/Kindassunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘You think I don’t know what I’m up against?’ I snapped, ‘you think I’m going to forget what happened to Seb?’ Warden didn’t answer but sat head bowed looking at his scared hands.<br/>‘You misunderstand me,’ he murmured after a moment, ‘I… do not wish for that to happen.’ I stared at him feeling something huge and hot rising up in my chest. Without thinking I crossed the room towards the bed. </p>
<p>A scene between Paige and Warden in the time before the Bicentenary celebration. Warden might live forever but Paige can feel the sands of time slipping through their hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a Sin to Tell a Lie

**Author's Note:**

> I read this book because it had maps in the front :D that's how you know you're onto a winner (and possibly tells you something about my decision making process...)
> 
> Also I think Nick should have secretly been in love with Jaxson... much spicier ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

I looked up at the ceiling, eyes on the thin strip of gold where the musty curtains could not completely block the day light. I closed my eyes. Nearby I could feel Warden’s dreamscape, iron-clad and enigmatic as always.   
I began to drift the mattress seemed to softening as my vision faded. It was not like leaping into the aether but something slower, sinking down until I lay flat on my back in a field of poppies. Memories flitted across the surface of my mind. The faces of the Seals splashed in vivid colour. I wanted to be back with them, back in London, back home. Jaxon materialised in a swirl of cigar smoke, grinning at me speculatively.   
I’d slept with him once, more than six months ago now. I’d returned late to the den, high and heartsick, and Jax could have a way about him when he wanted something. Foolish maybe but not exactly unheard of between a mollisher and her mime-lord; expected even in some Cohorts. The next morning he’d perched on the end of the bed we’d shared, resplendent in dove-grey with a peacock blue cravat, and told me this wasn’t how he played the game. It was amateur and he wasn’t. I’d said I understood, although I hadn’t.   
With our aura’s entangled so closely I couldn’t block the swirling flashes of Jaxson’s dreamscape. Room upon room of luminous treasure, not just coins and jewels and silks but books, papers, pamphlets, paintings, forbidden films projected walls and a thousand banned songs blaring out defiantly all at once. Even in his dreamscape Jax was a hoarder.   
I rolled over on the lumpy mattress, earning a metallic squeak from the bedframe. Sense memory still clung to me; Jaxson’s weight pressing, possessing, my nose tingling with cigar smoke. I huffed out a breath before allowing sleep to draw me into the twilight of my mind. 

I was washed and dressed before the night bell, stumping down the narrow staircase to Warden’s room. As usual he was sat mutely before the fire. The gramophone was silent too. I glanced at it as I sat. Michael materialised, as though from aether, placing a tray on my lap and glancing at Arcturus. It was similar to the look I’d given the gramophone; wondering if it was broken. The Rephaite seemed pale in the firelight; Nashira’s punishment seemed to be having the intended effect. I ate as quietly as possible while Warden glared into the fire.  
‘You are homesick, I think,’ he said after moment. I raised my eyebrows, what had brought on that question?  
‘No more than I have been,’ I shrugged, returning to my meal but watching him beneath my eyelashes.   
‘Who is the dark-haired man?’ Warden asked after another extended silence. I frowned at him, feeling a ripple in the aether, in the golden tie that connected us. I remembered dreaming of Jaxon.   
‘How dare you!’ I shouted my voice shrill with fury. Warden looked back at me; it was not a repentant look. ‘How could you have seen… that?’ I hissed, ‘I haven’t taken anymore.’   
‘The effects can take some time to dissipate,’ he looked back into the fire, ‘it was not my intention, Paige.’ The sound of my name softened my anger just slightly.   
‘It was Jaxson, you’ve seen him before… in my head anyway’ I told him crossly. I refused to feel ashamed; it none of his business who I took to bed.   
‘Your mime-lord.’  
‘Yes.’ I resumed eating, eyes resolutely downcast. ‘You’re the one who’s engaged,’ I added, unable to stay silent. Over the weeks since we’d began to plot the prison break something had grown up between us; some tacit agreement that seemed to hum across the golden cord. My hands shook where they gripped heavy cutlery. If he’d lived so long and knew so much why didn’t he do something? I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to stop what was happening between us or act on it. Warden was looking at me, gleaming eyes offset only by low light of the fire.   
‘You presume too much,’ he murmured then shifted in the armchair; if he were human I’d have said he was uncomfortable. ‘There will be another raid tonight?’ he asked now looking back into the flames. I eyed him beadily: ‘I wouldn’t know.’  
‘Do try not to get caught,’ he said sardonically before standing and sweeping from the room. I glared after him feeling a prickle behind my eyes. 

Ten minutes before the dawn bell I scurried in and the day porter signed me back in with a sour expression. As I mounted the stairs I could hear the gramophone crooning. When I entered the room I spotted a silver cloche that covered a steaming plate but there was no one in sight; the gramophone left to sing moodily to itself. I carried the tray and sat in my usual armchair. The fire crackled; even in August Oxford seemed to be in the grip of perpetual autumn.   
If I didn’t know better I’d say my captor was sulking. I sighed; it was hardly my fault if his spying had backfired and how could he be angry about something I’d done before I knew him? I finished my meal and returned the tray to the writing desk.  
The room seemed larger without Arcturus’ towering form. My eyes fell on the bookcase and I crept closer. Forbidden titles winked at me from the shelves, peeling gold lettering on spines of buttery leather, these were no Grub Street knockoffs. I lifted one carefully and inhaled the musty scent of ancient paper, feeling the weight of two hundred years suppression press down on me.   
‘Paige.’ I dropped the book, groping for a revolver that wasn’t there. Warden stood behind me swaying slightly in the gloom. I turned to him. He looked greyish, eyes burning out livid from his skull.   
‘Are you okay?’ I asked uncertainly.   
‘Yes,’ he answered shortly, ‘you should go to bed, you need your rest.’ I folded my arms; ‘you first.’ Warden looked at me, he wasn’t smiling exactly but his face seemed lighter somehow. Then he shrugged and went to sit on the end of the bed. As I watched he removed his cloak and boots, raising a single dark brow. I nodded curtly, retrieving the book and sliding it back onto the shelf.   
‘You are likely to be killed in the near future,’ he said conversationally to my back. I stiffened.  
‘What, so you’re a soothsayer now?’ I snorted but I felt cold.   
‘I know Nashira and know you, knowledge of the future is unnecessary,’ Warden shrugged, peeling off thick gloves and beginning to unbutton his shirt sleeves. I peered at him; I’d never been in the room when he undressed before.  
‘You’re a real ray of sunshine today,’ I told him, hoping he didn’t spot the flush.   
‘I want to impress upon you the gravity of your situation.’ I raised my eyebrows; it sounded like something I’d heard at school.   
‘You think I don’t know what I’m up against?’ I snapped, ‘you think I’m going to forget what happened to Seb?’ Warden didn’t answer but sat head bowed looking at his scared hands.  
‘You misunderstand me,’ he murmured after a moment, ‘I… do not wish for that to happen.’ I stared at him feeling something huge and hot rising up in my chest. Without thinking I crossed the room towards the bed.   
Warden had raised his head to look at me and suddenly I was throwing my arms around his neck, clumsily crushing my mouth to his. He made a muffled sound but then his hands were on my waist and he was holding me back so tightly I thought my ribs would crack. As we kissed flashes of his desolate dreamscape flickered in my mind, blurring my awareness and disorientating me. I gasped pulling my mouth back just enough to take a swallow breath.   
He’d rolled on top of me, trapping me between his heavy throbbing body and the mattress. I panted as he shifted lower so he could plant burning kisses over my throat and chest. He fumbled feverishly with my tunic, pushing it up over my stomach when he couldn’t pull it down without tearing. He mouthed my navel kneeling between my thighs, my toes brushing the carpet. I pushed myself up on my elbows sucking in air. I could see the reddish light from his eyes colouring the skin on my stomach.   
I shifted self-consciously trying to turn; bared to his gaze my body looked unpleasantly fleshless; bones jutting through my skin as though I was already a corpse. But Warden caught my hip, pulling me back underneath him moving upwards until we both lay in the centre of the mattress. His kissed my mouth again then my jaw, the base of my skull, gripping my shoulders with both his huge hands. I ran sweating palms up under his shirt over his back digging my fingertips into thick muscle. His entire body thrummed against my senses, it was like bathing in the aether. I squirmed underneath him feeling my thighs tremble as a flush spread across my chest.   
‘Paige,’ he murmured roughly into my hair, I squeezed him in response; ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’   
‘You’re not,’ I whispered, although I was sure his big hands had bruised all over my shoulders and hips.   
‘It would be unwise,’ he muttered but he didn’t seem to be speaking to me now. He exhaled another hot breath into my neck. I slipped my hands between us unfastening my tunic and plucking at the buttons of my shirt awkwardly pulling both open to expose pale skin. I pushed at his chest gently and he lent up on his elbows. My nipples puckered as cool air rushed between us. Warden’s breathing became rapid as he traced one long finger down the side of my breast. He cupped me carefully, as though concerned he would grip too hard. I covered his hand with mine pressing his palm against my flesh, feeling a flare of panic when he seem content to let me take the lead. He kissed me deeply, squeezing gently. My breath hitched.   
Then he was sitting back on his heels fingers working impatiently at the buttons of his high collared shirt. I propped myself up flushing when his eyes tracked the slight sway of my breasts. Even with the light of the fire at his back I could see silver-gold scars here and there on his arms and chest. I knew those worst of all were hidden from my sight.   
He touched the waistband of my trousers eyes finding mine with an almost human expression. I nodded. In a single smooth movement he striped me below the waist. He knelt astride me running his knuckles along the outer curve of my hip. I sat up and shrugged off my shirt, shivering in the cool air then reached for the fastening at his waist. He let me slide my hand inside. For a moment I could feel his pulse throb through warm flesh then the connection between us snapped taught. I saw a swirl his dark dreamscape, fires now pulsing below a cracked surface, before I managed to claw my way back into my own head.   
‘Paige?’ he was cradling me. I pulled myself upright, ignoring a swoop of vertigo, and kissed him, afraid my sudden collapse would make him stop.   
‘Paige,’ he slurred, trying to extract his tongue from my mouth, ‘are you-’  
‘I’m fine,’ I told him firmly, smoothing coarse brown hair, ‘just try… try not to get so over-excited.’ His mouth twitched, another not quite smile.   
‘Can we try again?’ I murmured touching his hip. He nodded, kissing my palm then pushing dark fabric down over his thick thighs. When he was naked he moved over me again, one hand running down my inner thigh easing legs apart. He lowered his head kissing my breast then mouth. I remembered something with a jolt. I caught his hip. Warden stilled instantly.  
‘I…’ I flushed, not wanting to say it, ‘I haven’t been taking the contraceptives.’   
‘Rephaim are incapable of reproduction,’ he told me gently, eyes on mine. I felt the golden cord ripple.   
‘Oh,’ I murmured, feeling stupid for not realising. After all why would immortals need to reproduce? He was looking at me with an unreadable expression but then his face softened.  
‘Do you wish to… proceed?’ he asked indicating the hand-span of space between our naked bodies. I laughed, feeling tension lift. I shifted my hips upwards as he took hold of himself, pressing carefully into me. I exhaled relieved when I wasn’t instantly sucked into his dreamscape. He slid deeper, smooth heat slipping against my inner walls, until his hip bone were flush against mine. The intensity of his proximity was almost too much. I sighed out a hot breath into his chest. He moved. Slow but deliberate, each press of his hips sending glowing ripples outwards. I gripped his buttocks feeling them flex with each unhurried movement. The muscles of my thighs burned, forced wide by his heavy pelvis. My toes curled as he drew me closer into him, one large hand gripping the back of my neck.   
I arched into him, my back curving, breasts pressing into his chest. He kissed my forehead murmuring Gloss, words running to together into a musical rise and fall. I ran my hand up his side, carefully skirting the rough skin on his back. I rubbed my palms across his chest, skin now flushed a rich caramel, circling my hips upwards. Warden groaned increasing his pace. I could feel the coil in my abdomen twist tighter with each thrust. I closed my eyes. The golden cord shuddered, flashes of his alien dreamscape burned across the connection. The pleasure peaked, forcing a gasping cry through my lips. He groaned again; thick fingers clamping around my thigh and upper arm. He shivered, not speaking now but giving soft animal whines as he sunk into me. I touched his hair tentatively, aftershocks still quivering through me. He kissed my palm, nipping the base of my thumb. Then he was clasping me so tightly I thought he’d snap my spine. With a final thrust he collapsed sending a shockwave roaring though the aether, rattling all six of my senses.   
I could feel the heat from his trembling aura against my flushed skin and hot slickness between my thighs. I press gently just below his left shoulder, feeling his heartbeat throbbing fast echoing my own. I tried to breathe deeply but it was impossible with his weight compressing my chest. Warden’s cheek was against mine, thick body sprawled between my legs. I stroked his hair, sucking in what little oxygen I could.   
‘Warden,’ I panted, when I was certain I would actually suffocate, ‘I need to breath.’ Instantly he was off me, luminescent eyes raking me from toes to chin. I sat up pulling my knees in, I was not sure I looked any healthier for the experience. He touched a bruise on my hip lightly.   
‘Forgive me,’ he murmured gravely, ‘you are fragile and I am… not very controlled.’   
‘I’m not fragile,’ I snorted, imagining Jaxson’s face if he’d heard me called that. Warden pulled the covers back from the bed then tucked me into it, handing me his shirt for extra warmth. I wriggled into it gratefully; he didn’t need to see anymore new bruises. He touched me face. I smiled finally raising my eyes to his. There was something almost painfully soft in them. I looked down at my knees. I wasn’t sure I could bare him looking at me like that; like he saw me. When he stood his face had already settled back into impenetrable Rephaite blankness.  
‘Sleep now, little dreamer,’ he murmured.  
‘Aren’t you staying?’ I found myself asking.   
‘It would be imprudent to sleep beside each other,’ he answered, then when he saw my face added quietly; ‘there are things you do not yet understand.’   
‘Then explain them to me,’ I sighed frustrated. He didn’t answer, sitting on the end of the bed with his back to me. Livid silvery scars criss-crossed his skin, poltergeist scars I realised. In some places the scars still looked raw and shiny in others they were a purplish visceral red that turned my stomach. I sucked my lip but kept my peace; the pain must have been unimaginable.   
‘I cannot,’ he said, ‘you will have to trust me a little further.’   
‘This is one of those knowledge-will-get-you-killed things, isn’t it?’ I murmured.   
‘No,’ he grunted, standing now and turning back to me, ‘but now is not the time. I want your memory of this to be pure,’ he kissed my forehead and I allowed him to tuck the blankets around me, ‘I think you can understand that.’ I looked up at him, feeling sleep creeping at the edge of my vision.   
‘Will I dream about you?’ I mumbled, though the question felt stupid as soon as I’d asked it. Warden smiled his not quite smile: ‘that is your choice, littler dreamer.’ I snorted softly, feeling all mysteries melt away as I alighted in a field of gently swaying poppies.


End file.
